On the shores of the Bosphorus, opposite Therapia, on the Asiatic side, is one of those lovely, and extensive valleys, which open on the strait, and add so much to its beauty. Here the sultans possessed a kiosk, to which they sometimes retired for recreation; and for their accommodation, a scala, or slip, was constructed on which they landed from the caïque: hence the valley has been called Hunkair iskellesi, or “the landing-place of the Manslayer;” an appellation rendered famous by the treaty recently made there.
This noble valley is distinguished by other circumstances. When Sultan Selim wished to excite a literary feeling among his subjects, and a printing-press was reared at Scutari, he converted his kiosk in this place into a manufactory, to supply it with paper. When first established, its arrangements corresponded with its former use, and its princely founder. The reservoirs for water were ornamented marble basins; and the whole gave the idea of a sultan’s palace given up for a mechanic’s workshop, and excited a feeling of respect and admiration for the enlightened and patriotic prince who had surrendered his splendid dwelling and delightful retreat for such a purpose.
Paper is an article to which a Turk annexes a certain degree of sanctity, and beyond that which it claims for its ordinary use. It is that on which, they say, the sacred name of Allah is written, and they never suffer it to be defiled, or used for any unworthy purpose. Wherever they see a fragment of it lying about, they carefully take it up, and throw it into some receptacle. It is often seen, in this way, stuffed into any hole or crevice in a wall which may present itself. With the same feeling, they have not yet suffered their Koran to be printed. They think it a profanation of the name of God, to have it squeezed, as it must be, in the press. The more sensible, however, assign what they consider a more reasonable cause. They call their sacred books, as we do, the Scriptures, or “Writings;” and, with an adherence to the mere letter, they say they could no longer be scriptures, if suffered to be printed.
The eminence on the right is the Jouchi Daghi, or “Giant’s Mountain,” impending over the valley. The reason assigned for this name is a singular one. Among the many persons of our Scriptures, recognized by the Koran, is Joshua the son of Nun; to whom its commentators attribute an immense stature. They affirm that he was sent against the Roum or Greek infidels, whom he defeated in a battle, during which the sun went down in his ordinary course, but immediately rose again; so they could not be saved. It was his custom to sit on this mountain, and bathe his feet in the waters of the Bosphorus below; and when he died, they could find no place large enough on the hill for his grave, so they buried only one of his feet. These extravagant fictions they support by two authorities. There is a dervish mosque on the summit, and a large enclosure beside it. In the enclosure is a tomb seven yards long, which they show as the evidence of the length of the foot buried there; and on the walls of the mosque is an inscription in Arabic, detailing the history of Joshua, whom they call Usha ben Nun. It concludes with a caution to the incredulous: “If any one doubt, let him look to this inscription, and believe.”
A circumstance almost as incredible, in modern times, has rendered the Giant’s Mountain famous. It is now ten centuries since the Russians, in their log-boats, made the first attempt on Constantinople, and their squadrons advanced to the Balkan Mountains. As they became a more civilized and powerful people, the attempts were made with more probability and perseverance; and Peter the Great, having Archangel on the White Sea, and St. Petersburg on the Baltic, conceived the hopes of rounding his vast empire by annexing Constantinople as his southern port, and so commanding all the seas that encircle it. Since that time, the great policy and ambition of the Russians seemed directed to this object; but while all Europe were anxiously watching their hostile approaches, and the desperate struggles of the Turks to resist them, people saw with astonishment a large fleet and an immense army quietly approach the capital, and disembark, not as enemies, but as friends and protectors; and, after an interchange of amity and good will between these deadly enemies, the one departed as peaceably as they came, and the other erected a monument as an everlasting memorial of their visit. It was at this interesting moment the Illustration was made, while the tents of the Russians whitened the mountains above, and the treaty of Hunkair Iskelessi was signed in the valley below. It represents the splendid caïque of the sultan returning from a friendly visit to his new allies, and the crowded boats of the Bosphorus “suspending the dashing oar,” as the homage paid to his passing.
On the left of the picture is the great Aqueduct, striding across the valley of Buyukderé, and leading the waters of the Bendts, or reservoirs, to Pera;—a part of that great hydraulic system, by which the precious and necessary fluid is conveyed from the shores of the Black Sea for the ablutions of the faithful in the great city.
